Pulcher
by thtzwhatuthink
Summary: Latin, a wonderful ancient language that's extremely complicated to learn as Maka slams her head into the textbook. Only two-weeks into the course, but things are about to get a lot more complicated with this language... because she's a whole lot closer to it than she thinks. (Caution! This story so far* contains: Profanity)
1. Chapter One: Latin Class

**Heads -up! **

**I apologize for any typos and_ I apologize if I insult your language,_ I was using Google Translate to the best of its ability. I don't own jack shit. Enjoy fucker.**

* * *

Never before had Maka struggle with such a class.

Such a language.

She was Japanese for crying out loud, and she's mastered the 3 writing systems of it as well. Then she came to America, and learned the most complicated language in the world, while managing to pick up American ways to hide her Japanese accent. However this language class was so confusing it drove her nuts. She was terrible at memorizing things, and that was what this entire language was. It was extremely regular too, so when you're translating it to English—which is utterly and chaotically irregular-It becomes a giant mush in her brain.

Let's face it, English is a whore.

It's been mixed with so many Germanic languages she lost count, (not that she was actually counting.) It was ridiculous, the course was ridiculous, and don't even get her started on the teacher. "ughhhhmph." She groans out and slams her head into the textbook.

She was only two-weeks into the course, but she was 700% done with **Latin **already.

Damn college classes.

She couldn't wait to get back to her dorm for a nice nap, shared by her best friend Soul since the DWMA. He was Death Scythe status, she's ranked next to Stein on one of the top meisters to graduate from there. They did both want to have the ability to have a normal jobs, interests, and skills other than how to professionally kill things. So college was their next destination, which they just happen to go to together on.

So there she was majoring in Medicine.

He was majoring in Music.

Their classes were at different times of the day, most of their cores they took in the morning at the same time, but electives were different. Oh, the elective teachers were awesome as well. They didn't give two shits if you brought a friend to class occasionally, so that was what usually happened. Soul would drag Maka to his electives for shits and giggles. Maka never really perceived to be the girl to drag Soul into Latin so she never did until today.

Because according to him, he had nothing better to do but to tag along for Latin.

He laughed quietly to himself as she continued to slam her head into her textbook, not understanding jackshit. The teacher glared daggers at Soul his quiet laughter disturbing the Teacher all of a sudden.

"Alright class, animus, animi . . ."

The teacher drills the class which in turn makes them robotically pronounce the next declension. Soul stares fondly amused at Maka while she fumbles out the words completely lost. She looked hopeless as the teacher started to speak in Latin, then translating each sentence said into English, like all other foreign language teachers do. It was only when the teacher started to randomly speak to students in Latin when they looked like they weren't paying attention, didn't care, or were completely lost did Soul started gaining weird facial expressions. With a glance to him Maka shoots a questionable gaze and he shrugs it off casually.

She thought of it as nothing until Soul gained weird facial expressions each time he tagged along in her class.

He pulled them at the exact time the teacher always talked to the students, the teacher sometimes smiling a bit too sweet for comfort afterwards. It wasn't long before she began to catch Soul glaring at the teacher whenever he did so. However Soul never said a word until the teacher one day did it to Maka. The teacher about to smile again before Soul randomly spoke up,

"You shouldn't act like your teaching when you're really just insulting Maka, and from what I've been listening to the past few days insulting all of your students in general."

He pulls Maka's chair by his foot to slide closer to him, out of instinctive habit to protect her before continuing,

"And come on, Latin is a respected ancient language, yet all I hear out of your mouth is vulgar forbidden words."

The teacher looked beyond shocked, however anyone with common sense could easily read the expression of guilty and "How the fuck did you know?" Soul glares at the teacher further before also stunning Maka with the next words that came out of his mouth,

"Lingua Latina non mortua est. Eam est vivum. Vos desiderio senescant me, et familiam."

—The Latin language is not dead. It is alive. You sicken me, and my family.

Smooth natural sexy Latin, with absolutely no flaws. Not even an American accent which meant—_'Soul isn't from America either? Since when?!' _however it was then that she took in his features, the features that she's adored all her life only to suddenly have the epiphany that they were _all _foreign. No average American had any resemblance to him; from his high cheek bones and square jaw line, to his uniquely sharp teeth that matches his natural frosty white hair. It would explain so much about his physique, and especially those rare eyes.

She zones back into the current situation only to have the teacher stuttering a conversation in Latin with Soul. Which in fact his red eyes never stopped glaring at said teacher. Anything the teacher spoke sounded jagged and made it seem like such a rough and raw language, however whenever Soul spoke back it was instantly like it was second nature; rolling off his tongue, his voice going slightly deeper than usual and a hell of a lot more attractive in his natural tongue.

Everyone with common sense has also figured out that this randomly ass guy with white hair was a rare Native Speaker of the hell course they were sitting through.

They all stared as the teacher stepped back with a growling remark coming from Soul, before he stood up and pulled Maka gently up with him. His flawless natural Latin, turning to the oh so classy American English with complete ease and no trace of his European accent,

"Maka let's go. I'll be teaching you this from now on, and you're excused from class anytime in the future as long as you're with me. I won't let you learn this tongue with such a low teacher."

Her mind was absolutely blown as not even a few seconds later she's guided out of the building by a strong hand gently pulling hers. They were heading towards their dorm room when Maka gains a grasp on reality,

"Soul why we're you so angry at my teacher? And since when the fuck could you speak Latin?"

"I was taught as a child to speak Latin, it was my first language because my entire family uses it, they pass it down from generation to generation, even when it became ancient."

"Interesting, but why were you angry at the teacher?"

"...Well first of all he was pronouncing and annunciating it all wrong. Second he sounded like a low life insulting and cursing at everyone in the room who does not understand his terrible teaching-and he was doing so _with a smile_. It just bothered me whenever he did it, and when he started on you... I just kinda got really pissed."

"What did he say?"

He looked like he didn't want to think about it,

"I don't wanna even translate."

"Say it."

"He kept calling you a filthy prostitute and a whore with no intelligence."

She dropped her books. He stopped and turned around, ruby eyes usually tranquil held a furious anger in them yet he maintained a cool outer shell, emerald eyes noting this and the words fully sinking in. She was dumbstruck at what her teacher called her. Maka, top student with grades coming before anything else but kishin danger—was an unintelligent whore? Her entire life's devotion to a need for knowledge only for opinions of what her higher-ups thought about her was a mere filthy prostitute? This hit her **_bad_**. Furious ruby orbs quickly switched to concerned and worried when he noticed.

"Maka you're not unintelligent, don't let his words get to him he should be getting fired for how much a dumbass he is."

"Am I really just... A filthy whore? And not that smart?"

They both started walking again, Soul a little bit closer to comfort while attempting to convince her that she wasn't a prostitute or an idiot the rest of the way, trying to remain cool without spilling any feelings in it. ". . . Maka, I mean unless you've been fucking a bunch of people behind my back secretly then you aren't a prostitute and . . ." She never said he was doing a good job of convincing her, but she gave him props for trying. As soon as she stepped back into their dorm she crashed front first onto the couch glooming. Her books left to fall from her hands and lay unattended to on the floor. He really was trying but it was obviously like attempting to talk to Kidd about its okay to be asymmetrical. Soul eventually gave up, and plopped down on the wooden coffee table. Maka heard sweet silence for a moment before a sweeter sound reached her ears,

"Tu pulcher es et intelligens... dilectus mea."

She always thought Latin was a war type language, with people screaming at each other with gladiator fights and prisoner slaves. Yet here she was listening to it being spoken so smoothly, it really was a dead language if it was being retaught all wrong. How could something sound so confusing be so attractive? Attractive to just her ears maybe, or was it the fact that Soul was speaking it? She didn't know if it was his voice when he spoke his tongue, or the fact that he's mastered something she couldn't—a beautiful ancient language in its true form.

For a sapiosexual (attracted by intelligence) like her, it was definitely yet another turn on from him.

Looking up she turns her head to face Soul, a look of curiosity plastered across her face as she questions what he just said. With a smirk he doesn't reply, merely getting up to make coffee. She asks him again before he replies with, "I'll teach you my language and you can figure it out yourself." She groans, knowing Soul he would probably make it one of the last things she learns. He hands her a cup of coffee and they discuss what they will do, Maka eventually talked him into letting her go to class occasionally, but he only agreed if he was there.

"Why must you always be there?"

"So he will straighten up his act, and I'll make sure you're taught right. It's much easier learning it close to home and from naturally picking it up too, not just being drilled on it."

Oh and he was right on that. For days and weeks she would follow him around the house and he would point out random objects, say it in Latin while she would echo him back. For example occasionally they would be in the bathroom and he would point her out in in the mirror speaking with a small smile, "Pulcher." She would echo pointing out herself. She thought it meant girl but a few days later he told her girl was, 'Puella.'

"What does Pulcher mean?"

He chuckles and replies, "That's your name."

Before he continues to point out random things. She followed along happily like Blair just given a new purple thong. For some reason knowing she had a name in the language was very satisfying. Eventually after a while of learning what was in the house for nouns, he would call out verbs while they would shoot hoops at the basketball, and much to his joy she caught on instantly, like she was a natural. They continued to the laws, declensions, and infinitives and she picked it all up swiftly. It was only as she started to learn how to form sentences and actually speak with him did it really start affecting _him_. Her sentences at first were really choppy, however as she's currently working on her other homework he asks, "How well are you understanding Latin so far Maka?" Not even looking up from her homework she mindlessly responds,

"Est facillimum ad intelligendum. Gratis ad vos."

—It's very easy to understand. Thanks to you.

He dropped his iPod.

The way she spoke it, her voice became softer to pronounce it right, however it held no American accent and rolled off her tongue as if she was a part of his family. It really turned him on, not physically, but he was pretty sure he had... Like a **_mind-boner_**. Her sweet innocent voice speaking the language of his people flawlessly, he couldn't hide his slightly hanging jaw for when she looked up to see what dropped. The slacked jaw forming into a wide grin as he complements her on her pronunciation of the language.

She was getting better and better with Latin every day.

She was becoming more perfect to him every day.

Occasionally now that she paid attention to everything that came out of his mouth she could catch him singing in Latin while cooking dinner, and from her knowledge she could decode bits and pieces to be love songs. In secrecy she soon gained a whole YouTube playlist containing sweet sappy love songs in Latin or whatever other language she could find. She memorized every song whenever Soul was out of earshot. She really didn't understand why she was trying to learn to sing in Latin, but for some reason she felt as if it would really satisfying for her; just an ordinary little goal for herself.

It was a good thing she did too.

* * *

**It gets more interesting I swear. _ I'm shooting for an eventful and long story with hopefully interesting mixes of kicking kishin-ass, perverted innuendos, fluff, and hopefully a little bit of heart-racing emotion if I can pull that off. More will be coming soon, I update quick. ;3 Please feel free to leave a review, suggestions and insults are always welcome!**


	2. Chapter Two: Italy

Because the second she got back from her core classes today,

"Maka for spring break I have to go hang out with my family and you automatically know just how much I _absolutely love _hanging out with them," sarcasm drips off his voice, "So would you like to come with me for shits and giggles?"

"Sure what exactly will we be doing?"

"Flying to Italy."

It was classic of Soul to casually say something like that, which as usual always earns him a slow turn of the head and a, "You're shitting me right?" look. Her gaze is locked on Soul as they converse,

"I'm not joking jeesh I'm inviting you to come to Italy, because that's where my family is."

"I thought your family was in New York?"

"Nope, I uh... I bullshitted most of my identity for years."

"WHAT, and you never even told me?"

"Do you know how many people my antisocial ass would have to deal with if anyone knew that I was an Evans?"

He slams his hand over his mouth as soon as it's out on the table. Maka was terrible with music yes, but even her dipshit ass knew who the Evans Family was. They were international sensations with every member of the family in almost every genre of music in existence. Thing is, they never had specified names, they were all uniquely iconic but each were recognized only as Evans. They were spread across the world and she loved the two Evans who were in the Japanese culture of music. They were big in her homeland. One was in a j-rock band, the other was an instrumentalist who played flawless pieces on the piano.

She stares hard at Soul before it clicks, and she gasps.

She was up on her feet in a heartbeat, dragging Soul to her room before dropping down to the floor and pulling out a tub container from underneath her bed. A hidden collection gets dumped and all of a sudden posters of all sizes with kana and kanji (Japanese writing) were flying across her bedroom floor. On them can be seen a grand black piano surrounded by red curtains with a checkered floor underneath. Mini plushies and stupid trinkets lay in the mess as well. She juts a finger out at the glorious mess, looks him directly in his eyes and blurts out,

"Is this you? Are you this Evans?"

"H...How did you manage to get these..."

"Watashi wa amarini mo himistu o motte iru. Choodo anata ga sukidesu."

—I have a secret too. I'm just like you.

He wasn't completely fluent, she watched him take a moment to unscramble what she said in his mind before eyes widen. She could tell just by the fact that he understood in the slightest what she said meant that he was the Japanese culture one, he was her favorite Evans.

"My best friend and weapon who I have known since middle school and trained to be a death scythe has been famous AND my favorite music artist since I was five years old. Why all of a sudden tell, **_no _**accidently slip this out casually?!"

She knew his music... Since he started playing?

He was her favorite... All her life?

He stared dumbfounded at her. He then began to notice her Asian roots, the hard knowledge mindset, her name, the way she murmured something quietly right before she ate a meal, it hit him like Blackstar's nut-punch.

"Since when were you Japanese?!"

"I've always been Japanese!"

They both simultaneously smack their own foreheads. They were both being idiotic with this, and to settle calmly, they both promise to explain everything needed to be known about each other's lives—on the plane ride to Italy. After all Maka wouldn't miss an offered free vacation to an amazing place, and she certainly wouldn't miss the opportunity to get closer to Soul.

* * *

Soul yet again failing to mention when he meant fly, he meant private jet. A private, muthafuckin', _jet_. Maka's jaw dropping as he led her to a reserved spot in the airport, a personal probably family black jet rolling up to them. Soul tried his best not to blush too bad from the embarrassment. She packed only a few dresses and fancy elegant tops, but looks like as soon as she got there she would need to go shopping for higher class clothes. He wore a collared red button-up, a loose tie, then converse and sweats, but she could tell how easily he could switch into professional attire from that.

The stairs dropped down and Soul gestured for her to climb aboard first. Did this thing seriously have a butler waiting at the top of the stairs? The dressed up guy at the top held out his hand for her to hold onto as she took the final step into the plane. He respectfully bowed to her greeting, "Salve Ms. Evans." The looks she shot Soul did nothing but make him adorably embarrassed; rosy blush, averted eyes, quiet chuckles, and scratching the back of his neck.

He wasn't sure if she was staring at him like that because of what the butler called her, or the fact that she just touched a very expensive crystal cabinet for wine glasses and then squealed like a guilty five year old.

Either way, it still embarrassed the absolute shit out of him.

He set his iPod and etc. down onto a table, and offered his hand to her. She looked at him weirdly before figuring out, _'He was raised with manners, but only must show them within the Evans estate.' _So with a light blush she rests her hand lightly on his just like the butlers before he led her to her seat. He took the one right next to her and began their talk about their lives.

The higher the altitude, the more interesting things got.

Maka was Japanese like Tsubaki turns out, which was why she was always so close to the girl. Soul knew four different languages—Latin, English, Italian, and Japanese—all but her language he knew fluently. After hearing that Maka managed to persuade Soul for a tradeoff, she would help him learn Japanese and he would help her learn Latin. An effective trade off that began right then, and for the rest of the jet ride.

Somehow along the way of this, Maka's became tired and fell asleep; dozing off on his shoulder when the conversation minimized.

When she woke back up she was being carried.

She could smell Soul's cologne, instantly knowing who was carrying her in their arms. She had a dress on the whole ride, but when her eyes opened ever so slightly, she could see a neatly done tie and a freshly pressed suit. Too lazy to want to walk, she was absolutely and perfectly content with Soul carrying her; therefore she acted still sound asleep. Soul perception flickered on in her mind, and she could sense a ring of souls surrounding her and Soul, which must be bodyguards. She listened to him speak Italian to several people, never stopping his steady pace. It was only when she suddenly heard a feminine voice greet him warmly could she pick up on a Latin conversation.

"Salve Soul."

"Quid nomen est, eh..." Maka only assumed she was gestured to as this woman asked of her name.

"Pulcher mea, Maka."

She could have sworn the women giggled, before they switched to a dialect that Maka couldn't understand. It wasn't long before Soul started to move again. She could hear his shoes clicking against tiles softly. A door cracked open then kicked lightly with a foot before her back gently felt the pressure of memory foam—a bed. He sighs tired and murmurs, "Ahhh, haven't been here in a while."

It was then that she decided to "awaken" and it couldn't have been a better timing.

He stands a tie loosened around his neck, belt buckle undone, and shirt unbuttoned to reveal an extremely lovely chest and stomach. He didn't have a headband or anything in his hair to hold it back, therefore making it fall loosely to shade his eyes. The sights making her want to sell her soul to Eros just for a night with _that _body. He looks her way and she quickly pulls a yawn and a sleepy stretch. She tried to murmur, "Good morning." as sleepily and cutely as she could. He bought the act and echoed it back to her.

"So what exactly happened while I took an accidental nap?"

"Got off plane, talked to matron(mother) only to learn guest rooms have been taken up, so I apologize for the inconvenience but you're going to have to share yours truly's room."

He humbly bows dramatically while gesturing to the room they're currently in, earning a giggle from her as she sat up. He gestures to her suit case and stuff set neatly in a far corner of the room. She pulls out sweatpants decorated by rabbits and bunnies on them with a big baggy shirt; setting herself up for bed in the bathroom. Soul took one look at her and bit back a laugh, a smile escaping his defense for her to catch, "What?" She questions. "You're pj's; bunnies are new." he responds but surprisingly afterwards a third voice chimes in. The same voice as earlier informing,

"They are very cute indeed."

Teenage heads turn to meet the head of household, Soul's mother. His eyes coming from her side of the family as her crimsons glisten amused. She was holding a bag within her hand, which was given to Maka a moment later,

"I know your culture is different from ours, so I would like to give some clothing as a welcoming gift. I am not saying you have to, but you would blend in here a bit better if you wore such."

Maka was all too happy and kind to deny much to Soul's relief. _His_ blonde smiling and agreeing contently with the woman who basically shot her a command to wear what was given, just in the form of kind words. If Maka rejected his mother was completely prepared to bring out her bitchy side. He forgot how his mother was, almost completely forgetting the fact why he rarely visited his said family. They were control freaks bottom line, and had all too high expectations.

However something told him Maka would be loved by his family.

Especially as she gingerly pulled items out of the bag absolutely dazzled with the silk night gowns and Italian themed dresses. His mother taken by surprise, sporting a genuine light smile before saying goodnight.

He would have gotten her silk night gowns a long time ago as a Christmas present if he knew how good they looked on her. The smooth fabric fell to the contours of her body, and as soon as she stepped out of the bathroom he had to hold himself back from staring. She wasn't wearing a bra with this and it was clearly visible—much to his perverted delight. The creamy long legs he adored were fully revealed, and as they settled under the covers together he had the strongest urge ever to caress them.

She was flipping out mentally. Soul wore just a pair of sweat pants, which normally he would always wear a shirt for the sake of her guilt not seeing the scar. She had swallowed that down a long time, ages ago, but so used to him not being shirtless she was praying he wouldn't see her blush before the lights went out. She also tried the best she could to not question why the sudden change, but that failed miserably; half sounding calm and curious the other squeaking out why he didn't have a shirt on,

"My family, particularly mother, have a really bad habit of being control freaks. What you were given five minutes ago was what you were gonna wear whether you liked it or not. Ma requires that the household wear silk gowns if female, or for dudes it's just pants. I know you don't like seeing the scar, but I can't do much to hide it. My mother can get nasty if not given her ways.."

He apologizes and she just shrugs it off, being honest and letting him finally know that she was comfortable with the scar.

Even though he had a massive room with a massive bed, they were dead center of it and pretty close. Both fully prepared to use the excuse that they were cold if either asked, and in all honesty the room was indeed an icebox; with the lack of clothing both had it was only worse. Not to mention they were too awkward and shy to ask for cuddling, and no way in Shibusen would they just _casually _snuggle up to their partner. However Maka was beginning to have not that much of a choice. He honestly had a very comfy and nice bed,

But she liked firm mattresses and pillows that didn't sink with the weight of her head.

Her body was really comfy, it just wasn't _sleepy comfy. _She at least needed a firmer pillow; much to her disappointment there was nothing within the vicinity of her hand to suffice. Even knowing this she did make an uncivilized attempt, flinging her hand around with the gracefulness of Blackstar to find something she could rest her head against. Her hand hit the night table, comforter, comforter again, a pillow, sheets, something firm yet had a smooth texture, another pillow—

Her hand flies back over to the firm object.

"Maka why are you groping my left _moob_?"

Her hand flies off and she squeaks out an apology explaining,

"I'm sorry I was feeling around for something firm to substitute for a pillow. I can't sleep with squishy pillows; I'm not used to it."

"And I'm assuming since your hand felt up my chest twice I was being considered?"

"Y-yea.. You **are** the only thing not fluffy that is near."

"You're more than welcome to use my chest as pillow if that'll help you fall asleep Pulcher."

She thanked Shingami mentally that the lights were out and he couldn't see her cheeks matching his eyes as her body gets close to his, pressing against him as he turns to lay on his back, arm lifting up to let her rest her head on his chest. Her ear resting right over his steady heartbeat she smiled, this feeling was so comforting—the feeling of being close to Soul. Her body felt awkward though and she tried to shift around quietly as possible to get comfortable. Maybe she was just restless for whatever reason but Soul could sense her distress.

A moment later an arm wrapped around her form, it resting on her back and pressed her closer to Soul, bringing her entire body to press up against his side. Another hand ran along her leg and tugged gently at the underside of her knee, pulling her leg up and onto his lap. The hand on her back began to rhythmically rub in a soothing manner, Soul murmuring in a husky sleepy voice, "Bene?" It had taken her a moment to let it sink in but she began to fall asleep right then, nodding slowly at the sweet ministrations. Soul always knew what would make her feel better, or fall asleep; something that always had drawn her to him.

The next morning said visiting matron last night snuck in with a camera after seeing the cute little sight, originally intending to call for breakfast but now sneaking pictures. It was Soul's price he had to pay if he was going to sleep in late. An identical copy of Soul, just taller spotted the said sneaky photographer, due to the bedroom door left wide open, and dragged her out calling out to Soul. Maka was half awake; completely numb to her surrounding with the exception of Soul. She was enjoying the cuddle bonding moment, but it only took a moment for her mind to translate the Latin from another male that was just in the room,

"Brother in the future do not allow mother wake you up, except if you really do want her to take images of you holding your girl intimately."

That got both of them to tense, and Soul's eyes snapped open.

"Quid?"

—What?

He sits up slightly, leaning on an elbow in an attempt to look but not wake, "sleeping" Maka. His other arm still wrapped protectively around her side. Soul gave thanks to the male within the room, as he holds his mom's camera in his hands; the door making a clicking sound as it closed. It served Maka's cue to sit up with a blush. "Sorry about that..." Soul apologized, rubbing his neck embarrassed.

"Nah its fine, you offered and I accepted without thinking too much about it."

She promised herself she would set an alarm so he wouldn't have to run into a mess with his mother again.

* * *

They both made their way down the hallway to the dining room after they freshened up, still in night clothes. It wasn't as cold in the main parts of the house, Maka being thankful that she wouldn't have to openly cuddle Soul. She was also thankful for the fact that they weren't in bed anymore, and she could clearly see not only the scar on Soul's chest, but also all of his roman god physique. He was handsome and she swore unearthly when they passed by sunlit windows that casted shadows and made his muscles glisten perfectly. She also wasn't the only one that noticed. As soon and both entered the dining room, heads turned. All of the other males in the room had on similar attire to Soul, all in fantastic shape.

The matron gasps, exclaiming in English,

"My goodness Soul how on earth did you get that scar!?"

He forgot about that, with a glance downward he chuckles and replies, "It was either a slash to the chest or her in a coffin," He gestures to Maka with his head. "I have a special type of blood now which allows me to survive a lot harsher circumstances then most, I was fine Ma." Maka made a mental connection to the attack giving him Black Blood. She nods in agreement. The same male voice from earlier speaks up in English as well,

"I see you're not flimsy and a skinny stick now either too, Soul."

Maka glances off to Soul and the to the males around the room, it all of a sudden hitting her that Soul looked the strongest out of all the males present. They were fit and thin, lightly toned but Soul looked to be the only one extremely well-muscled. He still maintained a lithe body likewise within the room, probably a family trait, even with the more muscle mass.

Soul in truth was always the runt of the family—never meeting the same standards as the others with music skills, or even in fact the same body. He was always different from them, smaller and thin, always weaker. However as he stands next to his meister, he's the complete opposite. He had nothing more than a smirk as his entire family stared completely surprised, being astounded by how he's turned out and he was just getting started.

They were by far underestimating him, and the small innocent looking, pigtailed beauty beside him.

He and Maka were under a silent agreement that wasn't spoken of but understood as they seated. Maka was going to play dumb, not letting any of them know she understood Latin. She had the option to mention that she spoke Japanese, but she didn't feel like it was necessary. They were all speaking English for the guests seated at the table, easily distinguished girlfriends and a guy friend or two. The family, mostly consisting of guys, had white hair, and either red or blue eyes, anybody else easily stood out as delicious foods were passed around.

The only time Latin was spoken was if the mother or father asked questions regarding the guests. Quiet conversation spewed here and there along the grand table, around twenty people seated altogether. A question in Latin was shot out from the man sitting at the end of the table, everyone quieting to hear the head's voice, Maka paying extra attention after, "Blonde hair and green eyes," translated in her head. His father was asking about her. Soul shot back,

"Quaeram ex ea te."

—Ask her yourself.

He glanced over to Maka a knowing look plastered to both of their faces before going back to eating. His father eventually mustering up,

"So, Soul, care to introduce the young lady accompanying you?"

"Everyone Maka. Maka everyone." He went back to eating.

"Still as blunt as ever my son.."

Maka stifles a giggle only to hear a gasp and some say 'what' in Japanese,

"Nani? Maka-chan!? Soul?!"


	3. Chapter Three: Cultures Meet

"BLAIR!?"

Maka shot up from her seat same time as the cat to meet in an embrace. As the long lost friends hugged they could hear Soul groan very loudly in annoyance before his head thumped on the table. Blair giggled,

"Oh you know you missed me Soulyyy! Come give Blair a hug!"

"Great Shingami nooooo."

Both of the girls laughed before Maka questioned how was life in Japan... In Japanese. Her words flowing in a natural dialect much to the surprise of all but Blair and Soul. Blair shot it right back out with practice; she was fantastic. Blair after Kishin Asura decided to move to Japan for some adventure and difference setting other than Nevada. She learned when this was mentioned to Maka, that Maka was from Japan and offered to teach her Japanese before she left. Soul intervened when there was a moment's pause between the two,

"Blair when you described, **'some hot Italian guy with a nice body who's in a band' **as your new boyfriend you never said he was my brother."

Wes laughed and Blair pauses for a moment,

"Oops, I guess I did forget to mention that tiny detail didn't I? Oh well, now you know!"

Before switching back to a Japanese conversation with Maka. Soul glances over to his parents as both Japanese girls return to their seats, calming after initial reunion. They held impressed and intrigued looks at Maka. As group conversation continued Maka's asked a series of questions. Her being here to visit for the first time, she was the only one who the heads didn't know about.

"You're not American?"

"I live there currently, but I was born in Tokyo."

"Is that how you met Soul?"

"No, I've been his meister, or school partner, since day one of DWMA; however I have been a big fan of his music ever since I was little." She takes a bite of sausage and glances to him adding, "Even if he didn't tell me he was an Evans and my favorite one at that until two days ago."

He chuckles lightly and rubs the back of his neck, murmuring a quiet apology. The whole family chuckles, the girlfriends nodding in agreement as if they've gone through similar situations.

"Soul never told us exactly what the, 'DWMA' was for, except the fact that he was destined for it, and it was a prestigious academy."

In an instant another silent agreement between not only Maka and Soul but Blair as well formed in that instant. A small sip of wine from the fields before she comments,

"Prestigious Academy indeed. It's an academy only... exceptionally gifted and skilled teens can enter. With the help of myself, Soul has been given one of the highest ranks possible graduating. The nickname for it is Death Scythe, and he's helped me to become what's called a Three-Star Scythe Meister."

"Quirky silly names for high talent, it was something they did at the school to expand creativity." Blair added in. She was smug and sly but she could use said skills for good occasionally. The parents looking pleased, before the mother asked,

"How many others graduated to be eh.._ Death Scythes _along with your class Soul?"

"None."

They looked impressed, Maka deciding to boost his reputation casually adds,

"There are only six other Death Scythes in the world currently. Nine including Soul to ever graduate in the entire history of the school—which is about 800 years old."

Maka tried to hide a smile when she heard forks and knife hit plates. "Makaaa..." Soul whines quietly. He was thought of the failure son of the family, and he happily accepted that because it meant less annoying people to deal with. He was antisocial yes, but he honestly was just a down to earth dude as well, born into the wrong family full of top of first class people. Now that he was successful and his family was aware—he would never hear the end of the bragging.

Now if they found out what exactly a death scythe was, that would be a different story.

Being world renown and respected among the weapon / meister society to professionally kill and taming kishin eggs—even defeating legendary ones such as Asura—it might frighten his parents. A smile gracing his lips as his mind crosses this thought, his parenting buzzing about this achievement and Maka internally congratulating herself for mentioning how badass Soul is, and shedding some light on his hidden talent.

He held an embarrassed blush rest of the day, because his parents would not otherwise shut up about it even after breakfast.

He was just praying they wouldn't ask for any more details. Now if they asked for a demonstration he'd be more than ecstatic to horrify them with how to kill and eat a kishin egg. Oh, and not even a few hours after lunch the next day they asked for a show of this 'talent and skill'. However Maka intervened, stating that they can't because they don't have the necessary material and the area to—leaving out specifically the fact there really was just nothing to kill nearby.

That was not the case though as soon as they went into town.

A small beautiful village full of cute shops although wasn't visited by tourists too often. It deserved more fame but without it really gave a homey genuine feel. Maka was wearing a long dress given by Soul's mother; even if it was a bit chilly out she wore it and felt perfectly fine. The rest of the women not blood related in the family were freezing their ass off. Maka was a warrior, and a brave woman who looks extremely attractive in Soul's eyes with anything that showed off her hidden curves. Those same hidden curves that swayed very nicely in his eyes as she ran to a window.

A window that was rippling.

"Oh no, oh shit..." The group hearing as she made their way past them, Soul three steps behind her. Everyone but Blair had the biggest faces of bewilderment plastered on. Even more so when Maka started talking _to _the window and Soul nodded along. As they got closer though they were nothing more than shocked when a completely caped and masked figure loomed in the reflection. A mask of a skull, but neither Maka nor Soul were afraid of it one bit.

Soul's family wondering what kind of stuff has Soul gotten into.

As they came back they looked determined and a lot more alert. Maka coming back to explain with only a hanging statement,

"Looks like you may get to see a performance of Soul's talent after all. I strongly suggest we go back to the estate; there is something dangerous in the area."

Maka persuasion skills were through the roof as she managed to round up the entire herd back up into the estate which she quickly learns is on a mountain. _Their _mountain more specifically, in which they own the entire damn thing. Soul was on edge; whatever that was in the area was strong enough to have Shingami call and offer to have Kidd sent there for assistance never meant any good.

Especially since Kidd and Maka are the strongest _and _wisest meisters beside Stein and Shingami himself.

Soul was practically quivering with excitement when Maka stepped out of his room wearing her uniform—shit was real when she stepped on the scene in that. Short skirt, long jacket and ass kicking boots. With a smirk she tosses him his classic headband. Walking into the living room to the entire family of 20 huddled about in the large room, Soul chuckling warmly to Maka,

"Just like old times eh?"

"Old times? We're only sophomores in College; we never even left the DWMA mindset."

Maka and Soul grin at each other only to hear that one memorable word of their biggest fuck up,

"Pum-Pumpkin?"

Grins are directed in the direction of the damned feline. "Blair is willing to lend a pumpkin or two if things get _ruff_." She maintained a playful look, only Soul and Maka understanding the true power of the word 'pumpkin' with Blair. Oddly dark clouds clouded the sky; even the environment was showing signs of something coming. Soul had a sinking feeling in his heart that whatever this was, it was coming after his family. He hated how controlling they were, but a family is a family and he loved them to death. The room was completely calm, but Maka and Soul close their eyes at the same time, and a breeze tousled their hair much to the family's interest, especially when it only them affected by this unearthly breeze.

Maka and Soul resonated with a thin link, allowing communication through thoughts and for him to use her soul perception abilities to guard the house. The clock struck twelve before Soul's father waved off the bad omens and stated everything was fine; signaling for everyone to go to bed.

Maka couldn't do anything; she was only a mere guest.

Soul couldn't do anything; he wasn't the head of the household.

They sat restless on the bed at three in the morning the feeling getting only worse and worse. Yet they couldn't leave the room. He had his headband still on however sat in sweatpants, but she refused to change out of her uniform. She couldn't, and he couldn't blame her.

Their heads suddenly snapping to the bedroom door that led to the hallway. Glass shattering slowed Soul's heart to an eerie still. Out of instinct they formulated a plan while executing it. She stuck to the shadows, learning the technique from Tsubaki, while Soul casually walked down the hallway with a sleepy **bullshit** intent to get a nice glass of milk. He would have to walk by all the bedrooms and through the living room to get to the kitchen, so he mindlessly scans the setting, and uneasily listens for the sleeping souls of his family—

Only for the sinking feeling to increase tenfold when not a soul was in any of the bedrooms.

He continued trying his hardest not to knowingly bolt down the hallways to save his mother, brother, cousins, uncles and father. Blair was just sitting there for enjoyment of course as usual, so as long as she was sitting there Wes would not be harmed. He strolled into the living room taking a moment to slow down and admire the very expensive chandelier shattered on the very expensive rug. He casually eyes the small glass shards stuck in nearby furniture, only to hear a whimper and his eye snap upward to the far corner of the room.

The sight before him he did not expect.


End file.
